Chapter 40

Serena's POV

My head throbbing with the aftermath of last night's drinks with Eleanor. The taste of black coffee did little to dispel my hangover. Fragments of the previous evening flashed through my mind - Eleanor getting increasingly drunk, her usually composed demeanor crumbling as she emptied glass after glass of wine.

"Ms. Sinclair?" Vincent's voice cut through my thoughts. He stood at the doorway, holding a stack of documents. "The contracts are ready, and Ms. Yates's agent has confirmed their arrival."

I straightened in my chair, ignoring the protest from my aching head. "Give me a moment." Despite the discomfort, signing Eleanor was too important to delay. StarRiver needed this win.

The conference room was mercifully dimmer than my office. Eleanor sat with her agent, looking immaculate despite our late night - though I noticed the slight strain around her eyes. She managed a professional smile as I entered.

"I apologize for last night," she murmured as we exchanged pleasantries. "I rarely drink that much..."

"It's fine. Let's focus on today's contract." I kept my tone polite but measured. Something about how easily this deal had fallen into place made me uneasy, especially given Eleanor's connection to Lucas.

After the signatures were complete, I turned to Vincent. "Keep this under wraps until the official announcement."

"Of course, Ms. Sinclair. Legal has reviewed all confidentiality clauses." His efficiency was reassuring - a welcome change from the constant information leaks under my previous secretary.

Back in my office, I stared at the stack of reports on my desk. Having a competent secretary helped, but it didn't change the fact that Father still controlled most of the company. Every decision felt like walking through a minefield.

By late afternoon, the headache had become unbearable. I packed up early, something I rarely allowed myself to do. The ride home was a blur of city lights and traffic sounds. I ordered takeout, barely tasting it as I ate, then dragged myself through a hot shower that did little to ease the tension in my shoulders.

In bed, I found myself checking my phone again. No messages from Lucas all day. "No beginning, no end," I muttered to myself, trying to ignore the hollow feeling in my chest. "We each have our own paths."

The doorbell's shrill ring jolted me awake. The bedside clock showed 3 AM in harsh blue digits. Confused and slightly alarmed, I checked the security feed on my phone.

My breath caught. Lucas stood at my door, still in his business suit despite the hour. He wasn't supposed to be back for another three days.

I sat frozen, heart pounding. Part of me wanted to pretend I hadn't heard the bell. Lucas was proud - his showing up like this was unexpected enough. Our day of silence had convinced me we were drifting back to being casual acquaintances.

The doorbell rang again, more insistent this time.

My hand hesitated over the intercom button. One press would either open or close whatever this was between us. The late hour made everything feel more significant, more dangerous.

Finally, I pressed the button. "I'll be right down."

Lucas's POV

I stood in the elevator, watching the floor numbers tick upward. I adjusted my tie in the mirrored wall, a habitual gesture more than necessity. Even with the slight buzz of alcohol, I maintained my composure - a lifetime of training wasn't easily undone by a few drinks.

The hallway to Serena's apartment stretched before me, softly lit and empty. Each step echoed against the floors, matching the steady rhythm of my heartbeat. I paused before her door, allowing myself a moment to inhale deeply.

My knuckles hovered over the door. Ridiculous, really. I'd faced down boardrooms of hostile investors without hesitation, yet here I was, uncertain about knocking on a door. The irony wasn't lost on me. Finally, I rapped against the wood, three precise knocks.

Footsteps approached from inside. Light, measured steps - I'd learned to recognize her walk. The door opened, and Serena appeared in the narrow gap. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she wore simple loungewear. The warm light from her apartment caught the wariness in her eyes.

"Did you get the wrong apartment?" Her voice was polite but distant, like addressing a stranger who'd lost their way.

I let a slight smile play across my lips. "No, I came to see you." The words came out softer than intended, betraying more than I meant to.

"It's late. I was about to sleep." She shifted her weight, subtly increasing the distance between us. The movement was small, but it felt like a chasm opening.

"I apologize for the intrusion." I maintained my smile, though something cold settled in my stomach. "I was in the neighborhood and thought-"

"You could have called." She cut me off, her tone clipped. "If there's something urgent."

"You haven't been answering my messages lately." I kept my voice light, but we both knew the weight behind those words.

"I've been busy." A practiced response, delivered without meeting my eyes. "And I have an early meeting tomorrow."

I opened my mouth to respond, to press further, but she was already stepping back. "Good night, Lucas." The door closed with a quiet finality.

I stood there, staring at the polished wood. The last time I'd seen her, she'd smiled at me, her eyes warm with something that had made my heart race. Now this wall of politeness. What had changed? I replayed our recent interactions, searching for a misstep, but found nothing that warranted this sudden frost.

My phone buzzed. Miles, my driver, was calling. I let it ring twice before answering.

"Sir, I-"

"Where are you?" Ice had crept into my voice.

"I thought you'd be longer, so I went to-"

"Come back. Now." I ended the call, sliding the phone back into my pocket with controlled precision.

When Miles arrived fifteen minutes later, I was waiting by the curb, my expression carefully neutral. He started to apologize, but I held up my hand.

"Phone and wallet." My tone left no room for argument.

His face paled. "Sir, it's past midnight-"

"That's correct. Perhaps next time you'll remember to wait." I took his belongings and stepped into the car. "The walk home will give you time to reflect on following instructions."